


Walking Next to You

by lewilder



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Children, Developing Relationship, F/M, Family, Fluff, Marriage, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-01-26 19:47:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1700381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lewilder/pseuds/lewilder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life was never supposed to turn out quite like this (who in their right mind asks for a war, after all?), but maybe they can thank the fates anyway, since they found each other.  (entries for Zutara Week 2013)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Calor

**Author's Note:**

> a series of chronological, interconnected oneshots, originally posted on tumblr during the actual fandom week & i'm finally getting around to posting it here.

_calor. Spanish for “heat”. (n) the degree of hotness; temperature._

*

In retrospect, it had been a really stupid idea to go exploring Ember Island’s caves in the dark.  _Stupid, stupid, stupid_ , Zuko told himself now as he trailed behind Sokka while the two worked their way through the thick undergrowth of the Foggy Swamp. 

Granted, the cave exploration had been Sokka’s idea, but Zuko hadn’t done anything to stop the process.  When everyone else had agreed, he’d just gone along with them because Ember Island in the summer was sweltering and the prospect of caves at night seemed so refreshing.  But caves hold creatures—he should have known that better than anybody else.  He’d grown up spending his summers there, after all. 

_Why is everything I do either incredibly awkward or incredibly stupid?_ Zuko griped to himself, swatting away a large glowfly.  Incredibly stupid not to have stopped his friends before the six teenagers found themselves in the caves and the rock that Aang stumbled into turned out to be a komododillo (a feisty, biting one, at that), leaving the group with a badly poisoned Avatar on their hands.  They’d gotten him back to the beach house where Katara had done her best to heal him, but even after her best efforts, Aang was still unconscious and the ugly red blotches that had swollen around the bite hadn’t diminished one bit.

That worried Zuko, because Katara was one of the best healers in the world, and if she couldn’t heal Aang, it meant that the boy was in a bad state—and, indirectly, it was Zuko’s fault.  It would be ironic, after all that had transpired, if he should have a hand in the Avatar’s death.  Zuko didn’t want that, not at all, which was why he was here in the Foggy Swamp with Sokka. 

Katara had sent them to the Foggy Swamp because that’s where junberries, a powerful antivenin, grew.  She said that a poultice made from their leaves would cure Aang.

Which was how Zuko found himself knee deep in brackish swamp water, swatting away bugs and following Sokka as they searched for the junberry plant.  (Sokka claimed to know what they looked like, claimed he’d eaten them when the group had been separated in the Swamp before, and that was the only reason Katara hadn’t been one of the group to come.  That, and she felt like it was her duty to stay and help Aang as much as she could with her healing ability.) 

Sokka had used their time together on Appa’s back to tell Zuko about what awaited them in one of the few places on earth Zuko hadn’t traveled in his search for the Avatar.  Zuko had heard all about catgators (“Lizard-fish the size of Appa’s head.  Whiskers.  Huge teeth.”), swampbenders (“Former members of the Southern Water Tribe whose time away from civilization left them a bit…primitive, I guess you could say.”), and visions (“The swamp is, like, alive.  It talks to you through visions.  Katara and I saw important people from our past.  But Aang saw Toph—and we hadn’t met her yet.  So I guess you can see the future, too.”).

So far, all Zuko had seen was encroaching vegetation and overabundant pests. 

And wait, wasn’t that a junberry plant?

“Hey, Sokka!” Zuko called ahead, pointing to the spiny-looking shrub.  “Isn’t that what we’re looking for?”

No familiar voice answered him from the humid mist.  The heat suddenly seemed even more oppressive as Zuko called out again. 

“Sokka?”

Zuko paused, standing still in the wet grass and listening.  No answer. 

“Sokka?!”

He waited.  Still no answer.  After a few moments punctuated only by the buzzing of insects around his head, he heard, “Zuko?” 

“Sokka!” he shouted, turning toward the voice.  “Sokka, where are you?”

“Zuko?” the voice said again.  And then Zuko noticed that it didn’t sound like Sokka.  It sounded like… 

“Katara?” Zuko asked, confused.  “What are you doing here?  Why aren’t you with Aang?  Where are you?”

Turning some more, he finally pinpointed the figure speaking to him.  It looked like Katara, all right.  Just…older?  And…really exhausted?  Katara sat on a tree root, leaning against the tree, looking drained but exuberant.  She kept speaking as though she hadn’t heard Zuko’s questions.

“Come here, Zuko,” she said, smiling at him.  “Come meet your son.” 

That was when Zuko saw the swaddled bundle this Katara held in her arms.  His… _son_?  And Katara was the mother?  A hundred split-second visions of Water Tribe skin against Fire Nation sheets flashed through his mind before he shook his head violently and took a few steps backward, away from the woman holding the baby she claimed was his, nearly falling into a weedy pool of water in the process.  He couldn’t have a son, he reminded himself.  He’d never done anything that could produce offspring, especially not with Katara.

Vaguely, Zuko remembered Sokka telling him about the Swamp inducing visions.  Did this mean he was seeing his future?  Or a possibility of his future?  Or just a figment of his imagination?  Because it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about Katara in that way from time to time.  She was beautiful and spirited and he used to hate her for it because the enemy wasn’t supposed to be so attractive. 

But then he’d changed and she wasn’t the enemy any longer—at least, he didn’t think so.  She had thought so until recently, until he’d gone with her to avenge her mother’s death and, in the process, she’d found pity in her heart for her mother’s killer and forgiveness in her heart for him.  The moment when she’d left his arms to walk over to Sokka after her hug of forgiveness had been one of the stranger moments of Zuko’s life.  For someone who had suffered so much loss and betrayal, he shouldn’t have felt nearly as empty as he did when the warmth of her body’s nearness left his.

_It was just a hug between friends_.  And he had a girlfriend, although he wasn’t sure exactly where he stood with Mai after he’d left her at the Boiling Rock.  She had saved him from Azula, though, so he thought things probably weren’t _completely_ over between them.

Even as Zuko reminded himself that he was, in a way, committed to Mai, Katara’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

“He’s so beautiful, Zuko,” she continued, love and awe evident in her voice as she shifted the newborn slightly in her arms so that the baby’s face was visible.  “He looks just like you.”

Against his better judgment, Zuko found himself examining the phantom baby’s face.  It was red and squinty and he didn’t see how it really looked like _anything_ , much less like him, but Katara sounded very sure of herself.  Instinct told him that it was best not to contradict a woman who had just given birth—even if she was just a hallucination or a figment of his imagination or whatever it was that she actually was.

Tentatively, Zuko reached toward the baby’s face.  When his hand was just about to brush the ruddy, rounded cheek, his vision blurred and both Katara and the baby disappeared.  In their place was a large tangle of roots and vines.

Unexpectedly, even as he told himself that this was all a product of swampy heat and his imagination, Zuko found himself disappointed that the vision was gone.  The thought of Katara and…their son?…had been terrifying yet comforting in the strangest of ways.

Sighing, Zuko withdrew his hand from the tree root and straightened, about to start looking for Sokka again.  Because they were here to help _Aang_ , to help save the world, to defeat his megalomaniac of a father, not to indulge in childish fantasies.  Before he could resume his search, however, Zuko heard Katara calling him again.

“Zuko!”

When he spotted her this time, she was farther away, perched on a branch halfway up a tree and looking more unkempt than he’d ever seen her, even after a battle.  She was younger this time, closer to her real age.  Her hair was a mess and her clothes were disheveled.  Zuko found himself doing more than a double take when he realized that her clothing was Fire Nation and of a much better quality than any of the castoff Fire Nation clothing he’d seen her wear since he’d joined the Avatar’s group.  It looked almost…royal.

“Zuko, stay with me,” Katara said, and her tone of voice implied that whatever activity had mussed up her hair was not something that _just friends_ did together.  “You’re the Fire Lord; you can be a few minutes late for a council meeting.”

Zuko was about to protest that, firstly, he was not going to be the Fire Lord:  Iroh was, and that, secondly, yes, while the Fire Lord _could_ be late for meetings if he wanted to be, it was, in fact, better that he not be late for anything; it set a bad example for the nobles and the public alike—but then he remembered that, if this vision was anything like the last one, Katara wouldn’t be able to hear him.

“The councilors will understand,” Katara said, grinning.  “After all, we’ve only been married for a month.  Aren’t your duties as a husband just as important as your duties as the Fire Lord?  They expect you to produce heirs, don’t they?”

Zuko groaned.  If this was what married life with Katara would be like, he would never get anything productive done, Fire Lord or not.  In that case, it was probably in his best interests to stay as far away from Katara as possible.  If their ploy against Ozai was successful and the world needed to be rebuilt, he needed to be able to focus on whatever his role was in that process.

“Come with me, Zuko,” Katara giggled and jumped off of the branch, running into the undergrowth, and even as Zuko reminded himself that this was all imaginary, that he was dating Mai, and that he _wasn’t at all interested in marrying Katara_ , he started running after her.  She kept changing location, though, in ways that a real human couldn’t, so trailing her was difficult.  After he’d tracked her and lost her and found her and repeated the cycle again for what seemed like countless times, she vanished and he found himself standing at the foot of an enormous banyan tree.

“Katara?  Katara, where did you go?” he called.

From the dank darkness surrounding him, Zuko heard Sokka saying, “Man, what are you talking about?  Katara’s not here; she’s back on Ember Island with Aang and everybody else.  Are you all right?”

Zuko blinked.  “Sokka?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” Sokka said, coming into Zuko’s line of vision.  Zuko felt the overwhelming urge to hug the younger boy, glad for something _real_ in the midst of this crazy Swamp.  For the sake of his pride, though, he was also glad he resisted the urge.  Sokka probably thought he was odd enough already, talking to someone who wasn’t even there in the middle of the Foggy Swamp.

“I’m fine,” Zuko said, looking around him and hoping Sokka wouldn’t bring up Katara again.  He wasn’t sure how he could explain his visions to an overprotective older brother.  In light of that, he changed the subject.  “Where did you go, though?  I found the junberry plant and then when I called for you, you were gone.”

Sokka shrugged.  “I’m not sure what happened.  Maybe I just got too far ahead?  I found the swampbenders, though, and Hue gave me all these junberry leaves.”  He held up a large sack and opened it to show Zuko its contents.

Zuko wrinkled his nose at the smell.  “I sure hope those help Aang.”

“They will,” Sokka said confidently.  “Come on, I left Appa with the swampbenders.  Let’s go get him and go back to Ember Island.”

After meeting the swampbenders, who gave them even more junberry leaves as well as some other plants that were useful for healing, and retrieving Appa. who seemed happy to see them again (Sokka had mentioned something about Tho always wanting to eat Appa for dinner, now that Zuko thought of it), the boys headed back to Ember Island.

Partway through their flight, something strange occurred to Zuko.  He climbed up to Appa’s head, where Sokka was driving, and asked, “Sokka, how did you know where to find me in the Foggy Swamp?”

“That banyan tree is the heart of the swamp,” Sokka explained.  “When I couldn’t find you, the swampbenders said you’d probably be there.  People usually have visions on their first visit to the Swamp and the visions always lead them to its heart.”

“So…you didn’t have any visions this time?” Zuko asked.

“Nope,” Sokka said.  “I did the first time, though.”

“What was your vision of?”

Sokka was quiet for a moment, then said, “My first girlfriend.”

It was Zuko’s turn to be quiet as he remembered their conversation on the way to Boiling Rock.  “I’m sorry, man,” he offered.

“It’s okay,” Sokka said.  “It’s in the past now.”

After a few moments of silence, Sokka asked, “So why _were_ you asking for Katara in the Swamp?”

More than anything at that moment, Zuko wanted to hide his face in his hands.  Or run away.  Unfortunately, being hundreds of feet in the air on a sky bison prevented that recourse and hiding his face would only cause suspicion.

“Well,” he began hesitantly, “My, uh, vision?  It was of Katara.  She was running through the Swamp and then she just disappeared.”

“Oh,” Sokka said.  “That’s weird.  Must be because you two just became friends or something.”

“Yeah,” Zuko said, immensely relieved that Sokka didn’t seem to feel a need to pry into the subject.  “Must be something like that.”

“If you ever even think about touching my little sister, though,” Sokka continued, and it was all Zuko could do not to visibly cringe, “I will seriously hurt you.  We’re friends and all, but that is not okay.”

“Don’t worry about it, Sokka,” Zuko said.  “I have a girlfriend, remember?”

“That’s true.  But you _did_ leave her in prison when we fled the Boiling Rock,” his friend pointed out.

“Yeah,” Zuko said.  “I did.  So there’s that.”

The boys passed the rest of the trip in near silence and Zuko spent his time pondering the logistics of postwar international relationships and allowing himself the luxury of wondering, if he ever did become Fire Lord, whether it would be more fitting for him to take a bride from the Fire Nation (for the sake of national solidarity) or from the Water Tribe (as a show of international goodwill), whether love would play a role at all, and whether his feelings for Mai were as straightforward as he’d once thought they were.  After the heat of the Swamp, he didn’t feel quite sure of anything anymore.

*

Zuko and Sokka’s return to the beach house was greeted with relief from the girls they’d left behind.  Katara set about using the junberry leaves in conjunction with her healing and, before long, Aang’s welts had diminished and his breathing was deeper and steadier than it had been before.

When Katara was washing the pots she’d used to prepare the poultice for Aang, Zuko walked over and offered to help her.  She seemed surprised but accepted his help gratefully.  Using their bending, they washed and dried the dishes rather quickly.  When it was over, Katara wiped her hands on her skirt and looked up at Zuko.  He wasn’t sure, but he thought that the way his pulse sped up when her eyes met his might be a new development.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

He smiled.  “You’re welcome.”  With her eyes on his and something other than hatred filling them, he was reminded of how she’d looked in his vision in the swamp, holding their son and smiling so proudly.  Before he thought about it, his next words tumbled out of mouth.  “You’ll be a good mother someday.”

Katara’s brow wrinkled and he couldn’t tell whether the expression on her face meant she wanted to thank him or slap him.  “Excuse me?”

“I—I mean,” he stammered, trying to come up with a plausible excuse for having said that.  “The way you took care of Aang,” he said, waving his hands as if they could explain everything he couldn’t.  “The way you take care of all of us.  You’re really good at taking care of people.  You’ll be a good mother someday.”  That was something girls wanted to hear, right?  Maybe?

To his vast relief, Katara didn’t slap him, although she still looked confused.  “Well…thanks,” she said finally.  “I hope so.”

As Zuko watched her walk away, back toward the house to look after Aang, he thought that maybe he’d been wrong about his _complete_ confusion on the way back from the Foggy Swamp, because he was still quite sure of one thing:  everything he did seemed to be either incredibly awkward or incredibly stupid.  If he was going to be the Fire Lord someday, after the end of all this chaos—or even if he was just going to be a tea server who wanted a good woman to settle down with for the rest of his life—he was going to have to work on that.


	2. Euphoria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this assumes no mai + aang entanglements.

_euphoria.  (n) a feeling of great elation, especially when exaggerated._ _  
_

*

When Zuko found Katara, she was standing between two pillars along the outside of the royal palace, leaning on a railing and looking out at the sunset as darkness descended on the Fire Nation.  She looked up when she heard him walking toward her, her unbound hair gliding across her shoulders with the motion.  Her hair was pretty, he thought.   _She_ was pretty.  He’d noticed that more and more recently.  He’d also noticed that he wasn’t the only one who noticed.  Aang had been hanging on Katara more than ever in the days leading up to Sozin’s Comet.

“Why are you out here all alone?” Zuko asked. 

Katara shrugged and glanced back out toward the city.  “It seemed too crowded with everyone else in the other room,” she said.  She looked back at Zuko then, and smiled.  “And I really don’t want to hear Sokka talk about that silly portrait he drew of all of us in Ba Sing Se again.  If I have to listen to him justify the reasoning behind his artistic choices one more time, I think I might go crazy.”

Zuko frowned and Katara misinterpreted it.  “Oh!” she said, blushing.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean…” 

Zuko shook his head.  “No, it’s okay, Katara.  I wasn’t even thinking about Azula.”  _But now I’m thinking about you.  And how glad I am that I took that lightning for you.  You healed me, but I couldn’t have healed you._   “I just realized that you’re right.  About inside.  It’s too noisy, too hot.  After everything that’s happened lately, I could use some space to clear my head, too.”

Katara laughed softly.  “A firebender thinks something is too hot?  Now that’s a surprise.” 

Zuko raised an eyebrow.  He still wasn’t sure how to take this developing camaraderie between them.  He was so, so grateful that she didn’t see him as an enemy any longer.  The past few weeks of their journey had seen increasing comfort within the group even as their discomfort about the day of Sozin’s Comet increased.  Zuko had especially appreciated the developing friendship with Katara.  Except for Aang, he felt like she was the one to whom he owed the most repentance.  He’d invaded her village, manhandled her grandmother (he acknowledged that she was Sokka’s grandmother, too, but he and Sokka had been on good terms for a while now), tied her to a tree in an attempt to use her to get to the Avatar, and betrayed her trust in the Crystal Catacombs, besides generally attacking their group and trying to capture Aang. 

Zuko liked Katara.  Even when they had been enemies, he had begrudgingly admired her spirit and determination.  Later, he was glad to have that spirit and determination on his side.  And he was beginning to think that he _liked_ her, too, as more than just a friend.  She was pretty, skilled, compassionate, and unafraid of backing down from a fight.  She was also a lot like him, he had realized recently.  For all of her good qualities, she was just as dark and wounded and _angry_ as he was a lot of the time.  He liked the way he felt around her.  Around Katara, he hurt less.

In this time of tumult, where nations had to be reshaped and mindsets reformed, when peace had to be enforced and sanctions determined, the Fire Lord should have been thinking about politics day and night.  Instead, he constantly caught himself daydreaming about the way the sunlight caught Katara’s hair or the way her laugh sounded as it echoed across porticoed courtyards. 

Now, on this quiet summer evening, she was teasing him about firebending, perpetuating this trust they’d built in the days prior to Sozin’s Comet, the trust that had been cemented when he’d jumped in front of lightning directed at her and she’d defeated his sister and healed him.

“Yeah, well, even firebenders are human.  We can only take so much heat,” he finally replied, smiling.  He was relieved when she smiled back. 

“How about a walk, then?” she suggested.  “We have a little while before the sun sets completely.  Let’s walk around the city and get some air.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Zuko said, and he went inside to change into plainclothes and to tell Iroh, who had come with the group for a short visit, that they would be gone for a while.  He was slightly suspicious when Iroh seemed inordinately pleased by this development and didn’t even bother to warn him, as he usually did, that he should take a guard or two along, but Zuko chalked it up to be another one of the beloved old man’s idiosyncrasies. 

Outside again, Zuko and Katara began their walk through the crowded city streets.  The atmosphere echoed with people heading home to their families while children cavorted outside, tossing balls and playing games to which only they knew the rules.  It was nearly dinnertime, so most of the merchants had shut down their shops already, but a few were still open, especially the ones selling food.  As they walked past a stand selling spiced komodo-chicken-stuffed cabbages, Zuko turned to Katara and commented, “That smells good.”

The cabbage merchant overheard him and, taking note of the scar as well as the foreign girl who accompanied him, urged him to take some “for the Fire Lord and his lady friend”.  After a few unsuccessful attempts at payment, Zuko graciously accepted the gift, trying not to laugh as he heard Katara quietly muttering about “adults and their assumptions” and how this man was “as bad as June”.  He did wonder, though, why Katara seemed to think it would be so _terrible_ to be linked to him romantically now that they were no longer mortal enemies. 

The cabbage did, in fact, taste just as good as it smelled, in Zuko’s opinion.  Katara, however, ate a few bites just to be polite before downing gulps of clean water from her water skin as soon as they were out of the merchant’s sight.

“Milk works better than water for calming spice in your mouth,” was all Zuko said as Katara glared at his smirk. 

“Do you even have boar goats in the Fire Nation?” Katara asked.  “I haven’t seen any.”

“Of course you haven’t,” Zuko said.  “We get our milk from hippo cows.” 

“Hmph,” Katara frowned, and Zuko found himself wondering how she could be so pretty even when she was being petulant.

“What?” he teased, trying to keep his focus on their conversation and not on the endless blue of her eyes or the enticing softness of her lips.  “Are you afraid of a little heat?” 

She leveled him with a dangerous stare.  “I’m not _afraid_ of anything the Fire Nation has to offer.  I just don’t _like_ the way you people flavor your food.”

If Zuko had been thinking clearly, he wouldn’t have even considered kissing Katara at that time.  They were at the beginning of a delicate peace, both in the world and between the two of them.  He had just broken up with Mai (for good this time, it seemed) and, according to Sokka, Katara had just told Aang that she didn’t want to be in _any_ relationship right now.  Zuko assumed that meant that being kissed by the new ruler of her former enemy nation wasn’t in her plans, either. 

But to see her standing there in the fading evening light, her hair blowing lightly in the breeze, her arms crossed defiantly across her chest, and her blue eyes sparking fire equal to any he could bend, it was all he could do not to kiss her.

He told himself later that it was a good thing he didn’t kiss her then.  She probably would have frozen him in ice using water from the nearby fountain and then their walk would have ended prematurely. 

In the end, he just blinked, swallowed hard, and was glad his voice didn’t sound too unusual when he replied, “Well, I can have the cooks use less spices in your food for the rest of your time here, then.  They already make vegetarian dishes for Aang; it wouldn’t be that much trouble to season dishes separately for you, too.”

The defiance faded rapidly from Katara’s stance and she blinked, too.  She uncrossed her arms and said, “Oh.  Well…thank you.” 

He smiled.  “You’re welcome,” he said.  “Now come on—I know a place where we can really get away from the crowds.”

Katara looked intrigued as she followed him through the bustling city streets.  Gradually, the crowds began to fade as they approached the outskirts of town.  Zuko led her through one of the gates and they walked a short distance until they reached a ravine where trees and undergrowth lay hidden from the sun’s daily glare.  The growing darkness meant they couldn’t stay out here too long, but the place he had in mind wasn’t too far away. 

After a few minutes of walking through the woods, they reached a clearing.  In the quiet dusk, they could hear insects chirping and humming around them.

“It’s beautiful here,” Katara said, stopping to observe their surroundings. 

Zuko nodded in agreement.  “Mother used to take me and Azula here sometimes when we were younger,” he said.  “Summer nights are always gorgeous here.  Azula and I would catch fireflies.”  His smile faded, then, as he added, “She always burnt hers.  I let them go.”

When he looked at Katara again, he was surprised to see her observing him with something like compassion in her eyes.  Instead of saying anything, she just reached out and placed her hand gently on his arm.  The warmth of her fingers seeped through the sleeve of his shirt and he was grateful for the contact, even on a warm summer night. 

After a few moments of standing silently together, looking out over the clearing with her hand resting lightly on his arm, Katara finally brought her hand down and said, “The war is over now.  This is why we worked to end it.”  She gestured toward the fireflies flitting through the clearing, flickering in the evening’s elongated shadows.  “This,” she said.  “The beautiful things, the everyday life, the kids playing in the street as we walked out here.  Families, homes.  People should never be denied things like this.”

Katara’s determined optimism must have been contagious, because suddenly Zuko found himself overwhelmingly pleased with the current state of the world.  It was irrational, he knew, because there were so many things left to fix, but suddenly he was just so glad that the war was _over_ , that his father had been defeated, that they all had a chance at achieving normalcy and raising their future children in peace. 

“I’ll race you across the clearing,” he said impulsively, and Katara looked surprised even as she grinned.

“To that big tree on the far side?” she asked, pointing. 

Zuko nodded.  “Yes, that one,” he said.  “On the count of three.  One, two, three, go!”

At his call, he and Katara both sprinted toward the towering tree.  As he ran, his world narrowed so he could only feel the pounding of the ground against his feet, could only hear the sound of the wind rushing past his ears, could only smell the dewy grass heavy with the scent of summer, could only see the tree ahead and the vague shape of Katara running beside him. 

Zuko was older, quicker, and longer-limbed than Katara was, so he reached the tree first, but both of them collapsed on their backs at its base, panting with effort and grinning with childish glee.

“I won,” Zuko said smugly, but Katara only bent water from where the dew hadn’t yet evaporated and splashed it on his shoulder. 

“I’m wearing a dress,” she said after a few moments, her breath still coming in soft pants.  “You had an unfair advantage.”

He lifted himself on one elbow and rolled to look at her.  He briefly considered suggesting that she remove the dress to make the competition more equal, but he knew that, even in jest, such a comment would get him water whipped or ice shackled or generally subject to Katara’s ire and ill will, which wasn’t what he wanted tonight.  And what was really unfair, he wanted to retort, was that she was so beautiful and he wasn’t even allowed to kiss her because he was pretty sure it would spoil their hard-won companionship forever.  Instead, he offered, “Care for a rematch?” 

She lifted herself up, too, and smiled.  “Sure,” she said, her eyes glinting with a challenge.

“I’ll even give you a few seconds’ head start,” he said as they both rose to their feet. 

Katara shook her head.  “No,” she said.  “Just because I’m a girl and happen to be wearing more restrictive clothing than you are doesn’t mean I need your sympathy.”

He shrugged.  “Whatever you want,” he said before counting down again. 

The two teenagers raced across the clearing several more times (Zuko won most of the races, although Katara managed to beat him in a few matches) before they sat down together, gasping and laughing and thrumming with euphoric giddiness, to watch the fireflies.

After darkness had settled completely over the clearing and the pair was long overdue back with their friends, Zuko finally suggested that they return to the city.  Katara sighed from where she was sitting, knees drawn to her chest and arms resting on her knees, and agreed. 

Zuko and Katara walked back to the palace in near silence.  The city was quiet, a sharp contrast to the hustle and bustle of the earlier evening.  As they returned to civilization, the reality of their situation returned, as well.  The feeling of giddiness was replaced with a more somber sobriety.  The war was over, but their part in restoring the world had only begun.  Zuko had a feeling, though, that he wouldn’t mind facing the uncertainty of the future as long as Katara was around.  He wished, and not for the first time, that she didn’t have to leave with her brother at the end of the month.

Most of their friends had gone to sleep already when they returned, but Iroh was still awake, waiting for them.  Zuko wasn’t sure how to interpret the look his uncle gave him, but, judging by how the older man’s gaze lingered on the grass stains covering the pair’s clothes, he thought would probably have a lot of explaining to do tomorrow.  “It’s not what it looks like,” he mouthed from behind Katara, hoping Iroh understood. 

His uncle nodded and bid them goodnight.

Zuko walked Katara to her room before heading to his own.  That night, they both dreamt of fireflies.


	3. Voices

_voices. (v) to give utterance or expression to; (n) the sound or sounds uttered through the mouth of living creatures, especially human beings, in speaking, shouting, etc._

*

Katara listened absentmindedly as her friends chattered in front of her.  They had been in the Fire Nation for almost four weeks now, spending most of their days in war trials as the Fire Nation government officials underwent review by Aang and the other nations’ rulers, as sanctions were measured out against individuals and the country as a whole, as plans for restoration were put in place.

It was going to be a long process of healing. 

The trials had ended a few days ago, though, and she and her friends were enjoying a short time of freedom—a few last days as a group—before they returned to their respective homes and left the comfort of the makeshift family they’d concocted over the past months.

Now, they wandered through columned hallways they had come to know very well as Aang led the way to the kitchens in search of some egg custard.  Aang had suggested the treat when they were walking around the royal gardens earlier.  When food was involved, Sokka wanted to be involved, too, and where Sokka went, so did Suki.  With half the group headed for the kitchens, it only made sense for Toph, Katara, and Zuko to join them, too. 

Late afternoon sunlight slanted in golden patterns across open hallways and when Katara glanced at Zuko, who walked with her at the back of the group, he seemed to shimmer with the light of the element he bent.  It was almost like seeing him sit in the throne room, surrounded by fire.  This was different, though, and much more comforting.  In the throne room, he seemed distant and almost menacing, even though his voice was familiar.  Here, she could hear the pad of his shoes against the floor and feel the swish of his sleeve against her arm if he stepped too close to her as they walked.

He had been stepping too close a lot lately, she’d noticed.  Or reaching out to touch her at times when it wasn’t strictly necessary.  Or watching her even when someone else was talking.  His attentions weren’t _unwelcome_ , she was sure of that, but she also wasn’t quite sure what to make of them.  If he liked her—really _liked_ her—he hadn’t told her so.  And she wasn’t about to take the first step and tell him that maybe, just maybe, she was starting to think that she really _liked_ him, too.  He needed to rule his country and she needed to rebuild hers.

Every time she’d convinced herself of this fact, though, he would look at her with his burning golden eyes and she would feel something inside of her twist awkwardly.  The South Pole was beginning to look more and more like welcome refuge from these feelings she wasn’t sure she was ready to interpret. 

With these thoughts in her head, she didn’t notice that she matched Zuko’s pace as he slowed down just before their friends turned the corner to reach the kitchens.  It took her a few moments to realize that they were still walking straight ahead and had missed the turn their friends had taken.

When she realized this, she stopped suddenly.  Beside her, Zuko stopped, too.  “Zuko, everybody else went that way.”  She pointed toward the corridor their friends had taken. 

Zuko nodded.  “I know,” he said.  “That’s the way to the kitchens.  But I, uh, I sort of…”  He drifted off, crossing his arms and looking at the floor beyond her right arm before blurting, “Iwantedtotalktoyou.  Alone.”

Katara took a step closer to him, observing him, noting how he mostly hid his nervousness but that it was still evident in the tic of the corner of his mouth, the flutter of his eyelids, the awkward stance of his fingers when he uncrossed his arms after his statement.  He would be— _was already_ —a good Fire Lord, but he couldn’t yet mask all of his emotions. 

She wondered—and simultaneously wondered if this wondering was a hope—if he wanted to talk to her about why his attentions toward her had changed lately.  As much as she had tried to ignore her own feelings about this, she was very curious to hear his.  Since she and Sokka were leaving in two days to go home to the South Pole, she was relieved that her questions might be answered.  If she were merely searching for answers, though, that didn’t explain why she thought that if Zuko brought up a matter of international politics now, she was going to feel like a fool for the inexplicable hope that had caught between her heartbeats at his words. 

Ignoring the pounding in her chest, Katara crossed her arms and did her best to keep her face neutral.  She fixed her gaze on Zuko’s face—his beautiful scarred face, she realized suddenly—and asked evenly, “What did you want to talk about?”

“Well, uh, I…I wanted to say that…”  Zuko took a deep breath and looked up toward her, seeming surprised to find her gaze trained on him.  He looked back out toward the columns beyond her as if staring at them would lessen the impact of what he had to say. 

“I wanted to say that…I really like you, Katara.  I mean, of course I like you, everybody likes you, you’re a nice person, but I think that I… _like_ you as…maybe more than a friend?…and I thought that maybe, since we’re both…unattached…right now, you might maybe want to…be my girlfriend?  If you, you know, maybe…liked me, too?  And it’s not like it would need to be permanent or anything—you could dump me whenever you wanted, like if you meet some boy from the Northern Water Tribe who’s a waterbender, too, and you two could…bend water…together and then that would be fine, we wouldn’t have to stay together, but I thought that maybe, if you wanted, we could give it a try?” 

Katara wasn’t sure whether to laugh or to cry at the bumbling sincerity and insecurity of Zuko’s speech.  How this boy could give speeches that could unify a war-torn nation and still be so uncomfortable around the girl he liked— _and she was the girl he liked_ —somehow made her want to do both at the same time.  

Ultimately, though, she did neither, only met his gaze as he finally looked at her and asked, “So, what do you think?  About maybe…being my girlfriend?” 

Katara uncrossed her arms and tilted her head slightly, softening her stance in reaction to the surprising beginning of an ache in her heart but not giving a straight answer when she said quietly, “I just told Aang ‘no’ when he asked me the same thing.”

Zuko’s golden gaze faltered for a moment, but then he seemed to recover himself as he tilted his head to match hers, the faintest hint of a challenge glinting in his eyes, as though he’d caught on to her game, when he said, “I’m not Aang.  What’s your answer to _me_?” 

Katara’s thoughts were whirring as she considered this.  _No_ , she thought, looking at the young Fire Lord who stood before her, a boy who had once been the enemy and was now a close friend.  _No, you’re certainly not Aang_ , she thought. _You have your path laid out for you just as much as he has his, but you’re different, the two of you.  I don’t want him.  I’m good, but I’m not as good as he is.  He’s too pure to understand the pain inside of me.  But I think I could want you.  You helped me avenge my mother.  You watched me bloodbend and didn’t say a word.  I wouldn’t have to hide myself with you._

“I…I’m not sure,” Katara said finally, when the silence had stretched on for too long and she knew she owed Zuko an answer.  “You have to run your nation and I want to help rebuild mine.  I’m not sure how it would work.” 

Zuko sighed then and shook his head.  “I’m not sure either, Katara,” he admitted.  “I want to run my country well.  But I don’t want to let our positions define what we do with our lives.  That’s what my family has been doing for the past three generations—we let our power go to our heads, let our position consume us and eat away at who we are as people.  The world is changing.  Why can’t we—together—be a part of that change?  I—I don’t want to lose sight of my duty, but I also don’t want to lose you.  I…really like you, Katara,” he finished, and she could almost see him inwardly berating himself for the awkwardness of his words.

She took another step toward him then and bit her lip, noting how his eyes swooped down to her mouth before meeting her gaze again.  “I think I like you, too, Zuko,” she said, and the nascent ache in her heart morphed into a pleased staccato when she saw a shade of relief sweep across his features.  She laughed softly and said, “At least, Suki tells me I’ve been acting like I do.” 

That caught his interest, she saw, and his mood was slightly lighter as he raised a quizzical eyebrow and asked, “Really?”

Katara smiled ruefully.  “Yeah.  When I told her I’d decided to tell Aang that I wasn’t interested in dating _anybody_ right now, she said it was a good decision because all I’d been doing was making eyes at you for the past few weeks.  Then she told me to stop lying to myself because I _was_ interested in somebody—and that somebody was you.” 

“…And was she right?”

“Maybe,” Katara said.  “I don’t know—I certainly don’t think of you as the enemy any longer.  You’re my friend and…I think I could maybe see you as more than that, too.” 

They stood in silence for a few moments, looking at each other with hesitation and curiosity until Zuko prompted, “So your answer is…”

_Zuko’s considerate._   The realization washed through Katara unexpectedly.  He wanted to be sure of her answer before he made his next move.  She found herself irrationally hoping that next move was a kiss.  She wasn’t sure how she’d gone from not understanding her feelings about Zuko to wanting to kiss him in the span of his confession of affection, but she had.  As he’d been telling her how he felt, she’d felt as though he were speaking all of the feelings she’d been tamping down in her heart over the past few weeks. 

She saw, now, that Zuko had learned many lessons since she’d first met him, one of which was that, just because he had power, he didn’t have to use it.  They were alone and he could kiss her if he wanted to.  That’s what Jet had done.  That’s what Aang had done.  Spirits above, he was the Fire Lord—he could simply go over her head and negotiate with her father for a bride price if he _really_ wanted her.  Instead, he was standing here in a corridor of his palace, hesitantly opening his heart to her and honoring her opinion in the matter.

Katara willed her pulse to steady as she breathed, “Yes.  Yes, Zuko, I’d like to try being your girlfriend.” 

Before the expression of relief had time to fully form on Zuko’s face, Katara closed the distance between them, pulled on the collar of his royal robes, and kissed him.  It was a gentle kiss, only a brush of lips against lips, but when Katara stepped back, she felt like she’d been scalded.

Zuko stared at her with wide eyes, seeming to feel the same way, and asked incredulously, “What was that for?” 

Katara frowned slightly and crossed her arms again.  “Well, I’m your girlfriend now, aren’t I?”

“Yes…”  Zuko nodded slowly, as if he wasn’t quite sure of that reality yet. 

“Then why shouldn’t I kiss you?  If we both like each other, it seems like the natural thing to do.”

“You’re bold,” Zuko observed with a hint of a smile. 

Katara smirked at him.  “You knew that already.”

When he leaned in to kiss her again, she met him eagerly.  This kiss was firmer than the first, and as Zuko became more confident, more convinced that this wasn’t some dream he was having, Katara decided that kissing Zuko was definitely something she was glad she hadn’t missed out on in life.  It wouldn’t have been fair to let Mai have all the fun. 

When the two of them separated this time, Katara knew that the grin splitting her face matched the one plastered on Zuko’s.  She was becoming more convinced that this had been the right decision by the minute.

“Your kiss is very convincing,” she said.

“So you’re saying I could have kissed you when those pirates were trying to take the waterbending scroll and it would have saved me all the trouble of having to win you over?” 

Katara scowled at her boyfriend.  (Yes, she very much liked the idea of that word applied to Zuko.)  “No,” she said decisively.  “If you had kissed me then, I would have made sure ice darts were directed toward certain areas of your body the next time we fought and you would have had to name an heir at the end of your reign because you would never have been able to have children.”

Zuko blanched and then blushed.  “Good thing I didn’t kiss you then, then,” he said a little breathlessly. 

“Good thing you didn’t,” she agreed.  She may not have wanted his kiss then, but she certainly wanted it _now_ , which was why she smiled and said, “But now…” and hoped he took the hint.

Her words jerked Zuko out of his daze and he took her hand.  She was surprised how good it felt just to have her hand in his.  Their fingers twined together perfectly and Katara thought she might be content to simply be together like this for the rest of their lives.  Then she glanced up at his lips again and decided that no, she wanted more than that. 

“Come with me,” Zuko said, and he led her to a small room near where they had been talking.

“What is this room?” she asked as he led her inside. 

“Old meeting room,” he said, maneuvering them around stacked tables and chairs toward a bench along the far wall.  “Used for storage now.”

“Okay,” Katara said, really not caring what the room was as long as being here meant that Zuko would start kissing her again, preferably soon. 

To her infinite relief, he sat down on the bench and pulled her down next to him, then leaned in to kiss her again.  He stopped with his lips millimeters from hers and murmured, “If it’s convincing you need, I’ll gladly convince you some more.”

Then his lips were on hers again as his hands trailed up from hers to trace nonsensical patterns over her shoulders and neck before finally tangling themselves in her hair.  Her hands came to rest on his shoulders and she was contemplating finding some other position where they could be closer when they heard their friends’ voices coming down the hallway. 

Zuko pulled himself away from Katara, startled, and both of them hurried to make themselves presentable.  Thankfully, there wasn’t much to adjust.  Katara smoothed her hair and the pair hurried out to the corridor, hoping to avoid being seen emerging from the storage room.

Luck was with them, because their friends rounded the corner just after they’d shut the storage room’s door. 

Toph spoke first and Katara remembered, cringing inwardly, that the palace floors were made of stone.  “Hey, Sugar Queen, what were you and—”

“Katara!  Zuko!”  Suki’s too-bright voice broke in, interrupting the younger girl.  “We were just looking for you.” 

Sokka shot his girlfriend a sidelong glance at the strange timbre to her voice, but then he shrugged and broke in, “Yeah, we got to the kitchen and realized you two weren’t there.  So we came back to find you.  You don’t want to miss egg custard, so come on!”

Katara felt slightly guilty when she saw the disheartened look on Aang’s face as the group—complete this time—headed back to the kitchens. 

That evening, Suki and Toph pulled Katara out onto one of the patios after dinner.  “Spill,” was all Suki said.

After Katara had explained that she and Zuko were now dating (the announcement of which was greeted with a hug from Suki and a punch in the arm from Toph), Toph asked innocently, “So, Sugar Queen, what _were_ you and Zuko doing in that storage room before we found you?”

“Toph!” Suki scolded, but the younger girl just smirked. 

“We were just kissing,” Katara said defensively, blushing and crossing her arms before she remembered that Toph could sense her defiance without that added gesture.

“Is Zuko a better kisser than Aang?” Toph asked. 

“What?  Why do you care?  And how do you know Aang kissed me?” Katara demanded.

Toph grinned.  “ _Everybody_ knows you two locked lips.  And I was just wondering about the comparison.”  She shrugged as though this were a natural point of inquiry. 

Katara rolled her eyes and sighed.  Before she could come up with an appropriate response, though, the girls heard the boys’ voices coming from a nearby patio.  What they were saying was largely indistinguishable, but Katara heard Aang say something in a resigned tone of voice before Sokka exclaimed, very loudly and clearly, “Fire boy, you did WHAT with my sister?!”

Katara sighed again.  “Come on, girls,” she said.  “It looks like I’ve got my boyfriend’s honor to defend.”


	4. Gravity

_gravity. (n) the force of attraction by which terrestrial bodies tend to fall toward the center of the earth._

* 

The meeting room was hot— _too hot_ , Katara thought with distaste.  Everything in the Fire Nation was too hot, from the spice in the food to the unadulterated glare of the sun, but she was doing her best to adjust to the thought that she was going to be living here before too long.  Hopefully, at least.  That was the plan she and Zuko had talked about, even though he hadn’t officially proposed yet. 

Katara tapped her fingers on her knee underneath the table, letting her mind count the reasons she loved Zuko and deciding yet again that he was worth living in a nation where the sun never seemed to relent.  She wasn’t officially a part of this meeting, anyway, and was only here with Suki—sitting at the far end of the table from Zuko, Sokka, and several council members who were debating the best method to deal with the increasing cost of importing arctic hippo blubber to the Fire Nation—because it was blistering hot outside and the girls had refused to be sentenced to the royal gardens while the men discussed political strategy. 

Reluctantly, Zuko had allowed them entrance, whispering to her that his hesitation was _not because he didn’t think Katara could contribute well to the discussion but because, officially, Sokka was the Water Tribe representative, not her—and she shouldn’t think he was going to make a habit of this, letting her intrude on meetings just because she wanted to, even after they were married—although he certainly wanted her input on matters privately and would take her opinion into serious account_.

Katara glanced up at her boyfriend and smiled when she caught his gaze briefly before he returned his attention to the meeting.  Beside her, Suki shifted in her seat and the girls shared a rueful smile.  This meeting had gone on far too long for either of their likings, but at least it meant they were in the shade rather than in the direct sunlight that blanketed most of the royal gardens at this time of day.  And if they were in the meeting room, it had the additional benefit of being able to be near Zuko and Sokka. 

Time spent apart was less important for Suki than it was for Katara now that Suki and Sokka were married.  Katara had noticed, somewhat uncomfortably considering the fact that her _brother_ was the subject in question, that all Suki had to do was bat her eyelashes in her husband’s direction and she was practically guaranteed plenty of time alone with Sokka.  Katara, on the other hand, lived halfway around the world from her boyfriend and found it frustrating that so much of their time in the same country was spent with him in meetings, even though she understood that he couldn’t necessarily take a break from his kingdom just because she was visiting.

It had been six months since Katara had last seen Zuko, and six months again going back to the time before that, just after the war had ended.  They both spent the months apart productively in their home countries and messenger hawks allowed them to communicate regularly, but it wasn’t the same as actually spending time with him in person. 

Katara looked up at Zuko again and frowned slightly as she observed him, taking in his dark hair and strong body and beautiful, beautiful face that she thought she could stare at forever.  She stifled a sigh.  The extended absences only made matters worse because when she finally did see him, all she wanted to do was kiss him, which inevitably led to even more frustration since Zuko had informed her during their last time together, when he had come to visit the South Pole and she had suggested that she knew a good way to _warm him up_ while he adjusted to the cold, that the activities to which kissing was a prelude were activities that he intended to refrain from until marriage.  The fact that he’d spent three years chasing the Avatar around the world should have given her a clue, but he took his notions about honor very seriously. 

That didn’t stop him from kissing her, though, and she had been supremely disappointed when a storm had delayed their boat yesterday so that they had arrived late at night rather than in early afternoon, as planned.  The late arrival meant that they had all gone straight to bed and she had had much less time to reacquaint herself with Zuko’s lips than she had anticipated.  All of today, so far, had been spent in meetings, but she was determined to make time alone with Zuko tonight, even if she had to construct an ice barricade around the palace to keep everyone away in order to achieve it. 

Ultimately, the meeting ended before Katara had time to fully plan out how she could create a barricade strong enough to withstand firebenders without anyone to defend it.  Sokka and Suki walked toward the hallway with the councilmen and Katara started toward Zuko but stopped when one of the council members approached him.  The older man spoke to Zuko in hushed tones but Katara caught glimpses of phrases:  _heirs to the throne…nobleman’s daughter…marry soon…Fire Nation bride_.

Katara felt the anger begin to swell in her chest when she realized what the councilman was proposing:  a marriage to a Fire Nation girl, one of the Fire Lord’s own race.  She clenched her hands and teeth and willed herself not to act.  She knew that Zuko’s councilors wanted him to get married and she _knew_ that they wanted him to marry someone from the Fire Nation, but the fact that one of them was bold enough to broach the subject _in front of the Fire Lord’s girlfriend_ made her want to cram ice down all of their throats. 

Zuko frowned and said something to the councilman in return, but Katara wasn’t able to hear what he said.  The conversation ended quickly and the councilman left the room.  Zuko walked over to Katara, but his smile faded quickly from his face when he saw her glowering at him.

“Katara?” he reached out to put his hand on her shoulder but she flinched away, crossing her arms and glaring at him. 

He sighed.  “What is it now, Katara?”

“Make. them. stop,” she gritted out between clenched teeth, surprised at the angry tears she had to blink back when she spoke.

Zuko’s brow furrowed and he tilted his head curiously when he asked, “Make who stop what?” 

She shut her eyes and let out a long breath.  Opening them again, she said, “I heard what that man said.  Make them stop telling you to marry a Fire Nation girl.  Unless you’ve changed your mind about me, I don’t want them to talk about it any longer.”

Zuko pulled her into a hug and, after a few moments, she allowed herself to relax in his embrace.  His lips pressed soft kisses into her hair and he said, “I haven’t changed my mind about you, Katara.  I love you and I want to marry you and I tell them that every time they bring up the subject.  But I can’t just issue an edict saying, ‘Stop pestering me about getting married and producing heirs.’  Until we actually _are_ married, it’s a valid point.  It’s right of them to be concerned about the future of their country, even if I don’t agree with all of the details of how they see it playing out.” 

Katara made an angry noise against his chest and he kissed her head again.  “I’m sorry you had to overhear that, though,” he said.  “The councilor should have shown more discretion.”

“Can I splash his soup into his face at the state dinner next week?” Katara mumbled into Zuko’s robe. 

“No,” Zuko laughed softly.  “That wouldn’t be the best way to have the nobility warm up to you.”

Katara stepped out of his embrace and smiled sadly at him.  “Can I figure out a way to use bloodbending to make all their daughters barren?” 

Zuko raised an eyebrow and shook his head.  “You said yourself that you don’t like bloodbending and no.”

Katara sighed.  “Well, can I at least get some time alone with my boyfriend tonight?” 

Zuko smiled.  “I think I can arrange that,” he said.

He leaned in to kiss her, but their lips had barely made contact before they heard Sokka at the doorway clearing his throat pointedly and saying, “Katara, I’d like to talk to Zuko some more about this trade agreement.  The sun is setting now and it won’t be so hot out.  Why don’t we all go to the gardens and talk?” 

Sighing, Katara turned and wrinkled her nose at her brother while she took Zuko’s hand as the two of them went to join Sokka and Suki in the still unpleasant but less smothering heat of the day.

It was several hours later—after dinner was over, the servants had been dismissed, and Suki had pulled Sokka to their room, reminding him that a man needs his _rest_ —before Katara had a chance to be alone with Zuko again.  They still sat in their chairs from dinner, on opposite sides of the table in the small, informal dining room where they had eaten with Sokka and Suki. 

Zuko’s fingers drummed a slow pattern along the tabletop.  He looked up at Katara.  “So…” he began.

“So…” Katara echoed. 

“Six months is a long time to be apart,” Zuko said.  When he met her gaze, she felt her heart quake a little bit as her anger from earlier dissipated completely.  He loved her; that much was obvious from the way he looked at her.

Katara swallowed hard and nodded.  “It is.” 

“I missed you,” Zuko said softly.

Katara smiled gently.  “I missed you, too.” 

“It was nice getting your letters, though.”

Katara agreed.  She had never been more thankful for the Fire Nation’s messenger hawks than when they brought news from Zuko.  “Yeah,” she said.  “Thank goodness for messenger hawks.” 

Zuko nodded.  “Yeah.”  He paused then, fingers resuming their dance along the edge of the table, looking solemnly at Katara for a while before seeming to regain his train of thought and saying, “So…are you tired, too?  Do you want to go to bed now or…something?”  He drifted off, gauging her reaction.

Katara shook her head.  “No, I’m not ready to go to bed yet.”  Zuko’s gaze sharpened when he heard the determined tone of her voice. 

“…What do you want to do?”

“Didn’t I tell you I wanted time alone with my boyfriend?”  Katara smiled and rose from her seat.  Walking around the table, she settled herself in his lap, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him firmly.  As she felt the simultaneous relief and longing flood her body, she heard Zuko sigh into her mouth as he wound his hands into her hair and she knew that he felt the same way.  She had missed this so much.  She loved Zuko for so much more than the fact that he was a good kisser, but she couldn’t deny that almost since the first time they’d kissed, she’d decided that she never wanted to stop kissing Zuko if she had any say in the matter. 

After a few minutes of eagerly reacquainting themselves with the other’s kiss, Zuko pulled back and grinned at Katara.  He reached up to push a wayward strand of hair over her shoulder and asked, “So _that’s_ how you want to spend the evening?”

Katara leaned in and kissed him again before returning his grin.  “Yes,” she said decisively.  “We can talk about important things tomorrow.  Or the next day.  Or maybe the day after that.  Right now, I have six months’ worth of not kissing my boyfriend to make up for.  So shut up and kiss me some more, please.” 

“I think I can manage that,” Zuko muttered, pulling her toward him again and proceeding to show her, most emphatically, that he had missed kissing her during their six-month separation, too.

Just when Katara had decided that she was going to suggest eloping _now_ , she heard something that temporarily distracted her from the all-encompassing pleasure of kissing Zuko.  _Plink.  Plink.  Plink._

“Zuko?” she asked, moving to kiss his ear so his mouth was free to answer her. 

“What?” he asked, pulling her back and kissing her lips again as he ran his hands down her back.

“Do you hear that noise?” she asked around kisses. 

“What noise?” he asked.

She pulled away for a moment and listened.  The room was silent now.  Shaking her head, she said, “Never mind,” and started kissing him again.

A few minutes later, though, the noise was back.  _Plink.  Plink.  Plink._   This time, Zuko heard it, too, and he stopped kissing her and looked toward the door.

“Is that the noise you heard before?” 

Katara nodded.

Zuko frowned.  “That’s odd,” he said.  “We should investigate.  Come with me.” 

Reluctantly, Katara slid from his lap and the two of them walked to the door.  Zuko opened it cautiously and peeked outside.  After he looked out, he pushed the door all the way open and said, “Katara, look at this.”

Katara stepped around him and looked out onto the covered walkway that passed by this room.  The area in front of the door was littered with miniscule pebbles. 

“What is this?” Katara asked, wrinkling her brow in confusion.  “Are you doing renovations or something?  Did workers spill these?”

Zuko shook his head.  “No, we don’t have any building projects going on at the palace right now.  And they wouldn’t be working at night, anyway.”  He surveyed the area again, perplexed, then suggested, “An animal of some sort?”

“An animal that randomly leaves pebbles all over one _specific_ area of a hallway?”  Katara raised an eyebrow.  “I don’t know of any animals like that.” 

The two of them walked around the area but found nothing suspicious other than the pebbles, which were apparently the cause of the noise they’d heard earlier.

Zuko shook his head, still looking around suspiciously.  “This is strange.  Let me walk you to your room and then I’ll find someone to clean it up.”

Katara took his hand and smiled her most flirtatious smile.  “And _then_ you’ll come kiss me goodnight some more?” 

Zuko frowned at her.  “I can’t, Katara.  I swear, if we are alone in your room, things will not end well.”

Katara frowned back at him, not surprised but not altogether pleased, either.  “Or they’ll end very well, depending on your perspective,” she pointed out. 

Zuko sighed and pulled her into a hug.  “Katara, I promise that once we are married, I’ll make it up to you a hundredfold.”

Zuko pulled back from the hug and placed his hands on her shoulders, looking her in the eye and saying seriously, “But some things just aren’t…proper…before marriage.” 

Katara pouted.  “You _promise_ you’ll make up for all this waiting?”

Zuko breathed out heavily through his mouth and slid his hands down her arms, taking her hands in his.  “Yes.  I swear to the spirits, _yes_.  We agreed that you wanted to be sixteen before we got married because that’s your tribe’s tradition, but do you have any idea how much I want you?” 

At that, Katara smirked slightly.  She’d just spent the better part of two hours pressed up against him, so she had somewhat of an idea just how much he wanted her.  “A pretty good idea, yes,” she said.

Zuko blushed and gave her a warning look.  “Katara!” he chided gently. 

Katara withdrew her hands from his and waved them in defeat.  “Fine, fine, just take me to bed and then deal with the pebbles.”

“All right, then.” 

Zuko took one of her hands in his again and walked her back to her room.  After an extended goodnight kiss at her doorway, he left her to find her own peace in sleep.

The next morning dawned cooler than the previous one, so Suki and Katara wandered the palace gardens and talked while the boys were in political meetings.  At breakfast, Zuko had kissed Katara’s cheek and whispered to her that he’d canceled his meetings for the afternoon so they could spend it together.  After lunch, Suki intimated to Sokka that she was _tired_ and the two of them disappeared, leaving a grateful Zuko and Katara with a few free hours before they would all reunite for dinner. 

The two of them took a palanquin to the edge of town and meandered along the cliffs, catching up on each other’s lives from the past six months beyond what they’d written in letters, until they found a secluded area near a beach, where they eventually resumed their activities from the previous evening.  Before things had progressed very far, though, Katara felt a small pebble hit her arm.  At first, she ignored it, but after several more clattered to the ground around her and Zuko and another hit Zuko on the shoulder, she finally pulled back.

“ _What_ is going on here?” she asked breathlessly, raising her hands over her head to shield herself. 

Zuko was also looking incredulously at the pebbles, which were still falling in a slow, irregular pattern.  Equally breathless, he said, “I have no idea.  But we should probably go find out.”

They climbed out of the alcove where they’d sought privacy and surveyed the surrounding area.  Nothing appeared out of the ordinary until Katara spotted an outcropping of rock that looked both out of place and familiar. 

“Oh, no.  Oh, no, oh, no,” she breathed.

Zuko looked around, not seeing what had caught her attention.  “What?” he asked. 

“Look!”  Katara pointed.

Suddenly, Zuko understood what she was thinking.  “Is that…?” he started to ask. 

Before he could finish his question, though, Katara called out, “Toph!  Toph Beifong, if you are here, come out right now or I will personally waterbend you all the way back to the Earth Kingdom and I’ll make sure you get very wet along the way!”

The rock tent collapsed and Toph walked over to them.  She waved.  “Hey, Zuko.  Hey, Sugar Queen.”

Zuko, for his part, looked mortified at the thought of all the rock that lay between Toph’s hiding place and where he and Katara had been kissing.  Katara, on the other hand, just looked angry.  She crossed her arms, uncrossed them to toss her hair behind her shoulders, then crossed them again, tapping her foot irritably all the while. 

“Toph!” she demanded, “What do you think you’re doing?!  Was that you throwing those pebbles at us?”

Toph looked equally indignant.  “ _Of course_ it was me.  Did you think they just fell from the sky?”  She, too, crossed her arms and huffed in their direction.  “It was me last night, too.  And I didn’t throw them _at_ you—I just brought them to your general area and let gravity do its work when I released them.  I wasn’t trying to hurt you; I was just supposed to distract you.”

“Wait a minute,” Zuko broke in.  “ _Supposed to?_ ” 

“Yeah,” Toph said.  She waited for a moment, but when no one said anything else, she sighed and admitted, “Sokka got in touch with me a few weeks ago.  He said you guys were coming on this trip to the Fire Nation and he thought Suki might be too much of a distraction for him—which he was totally right about, by the way, but at least the man knows his own weaknesses—and keep him from keeping a good eye on you, Sweetness.  So he called me in to provide reinforcement.”

By this point, Katara’s foot was beating an incensed pattern into the ground.  “I am going to kill Sokka,” she declared, simmering with rage. 

Toph grimaced and offered, “I just might help you.  He owes me big time for making me spy on you two while you were getting all mushy with each other.”  She frowned sternly at her friends and added, “You two are gross, by the way.”

“We’re not _gross_!” Katara sputtered, flinging her arms out.  “You were just listening in on things you shouldn’t have been listening to!” 

“You’re gross,” Toph insisted.  “And it’s a matter of opinion, anyway.”  She raised her nose superciliously into the air.

The girls stood facing each other in silent aggression until Zuko sighed and reached out to clap Toph on the shoulder.  “Well, as much as this is not how I would have liked for it to happen, it’s nice to see you again, Toph,” he said.  He looked at the two girls standing before him and shook his head.  “Come on, we might as well go back to the palace now and let Sokka know we’re onto his little scheme.” 

The three of them walked back toward the palanquin in increasingly easy silence.  Before they had gone too far, Zuko leaned toward Katara and whispered, “I’m going to have to propose soon, aren’t I?”

“I can hear you, you know!” Toph shouted from where she walked in front of them. 

Katara giggled despite her annoyance and sighed.  When she replied, she only bothered with a half-whisper.  “If you don’t want me to hurt your councilmen or my brother and all of our friends that he ropes into his rabaroo-brained schemes, then yes.”

Zuko laughed softly.  “I love you,” he said. 

“I love you, too,” Katara said, reaching out and taking his hand.

Ahead of them, Toph sighed with an air of longsuffering.  “Like I said before:  you two are gross.” 

Zuko and Katara only laughed and stole a quick kiss before Toph started flinging pebbles in their direction again.


	5. Bound

_bound. (adj) determined, resolved; (n) a boundary; (v, pp of ‘bind’) tied; closely connected._

* 

Under the heat of the Fire Nation sun, Katara walked hand in hand with Zuko in companionable silence and pondered the incongruity that was their fingers intertwined.  None of this was ever bound to happen; none of it was fated or predestined.  Of that, Katara was certain, because she was sure that fate would have paired them off differently.  She would have ended up with Aang:  it was what their friends had expected, it was what he had expected, it was what _she_ had expected for a long time.  But then Zuko had shown up at the Western Air Temple with his offers of repentance and vengeance and aid and suddenly she hadn’t seen things as clearly as she’d thought she did.  Unexpectedly, she’d found that the aches in her soul lessened when she was around the shaggy-haired, moody prince.

When Zuko had asked her to be his girlfriend, after the war was over, she’d said yes because she wanted to explore the possibility of what his companionship had to offer.  He was intriguing and calming and frustrating all at once, a contradiction she had yet to fully solve.  When she’d realized that she loved him, she’d cried alone in her room for days because the world was still too uncertain and she didn’t trust her happiness.  If this was going to work, two opposing hearts bound together in love, they would have to fight for it.  Even in this new era of peace and love, she wasn’t naïve enough to think that the world would ever be kind to the hopeful or the happy. 

It had been over a year now since she’d consented to date him and a part of her was still uncertain—not about Zuko, because she loved him more than she could have ever imagined loving anybody, but rather about the possibility of them actually making it work in the long run.  Their year as a couple had been spent largely apart, and whenever they were together, one was always the foreigner learning the other’s land and people and customs.  Together, one of them would never truly be at home except in the other’s heart. 

There was always an unspoken promise, though, behind Zuko’s amber eyes, a promise that he would humble himself to learn the intricacies of her people’s ways and be patient with her while she learned the intricacies of his.  There was always a longing, too, a different promise that spoke of the solace offered by the union of bodies and souls after their hoped-for wedding, when Zuko would allow her to cross the final boundary he had placed between them, the only one he still kept between them.  She knew the inmost workings of his heart and mind but she had yet to learn the full extent of his body.  There were other promises necessary for that, in his mind, ones that would make them husband and wife, ones that Katara thought she was ready to make—and not just because that last boundary was one she couldn’t wait to cross. 

In the end, it made sense—after all they had been through together and all they _wanted_ to face together in the future—that he should be here now, offering her two beautifully crafted hair combs of blown glass that he’d made himself and asking her if she would marry him, if she would take him as her husband and bind their futures together irrevocably.

The joy that flooded Katara’s being when she said _yes_ told her she was making the right choice.  The relief that filled Zuko’s eyes when he heard her answer told her they both deserved this chance at happiness.  The overwhelming love ( _sweet calming peace always tinged with longing_ ) that coursed through her veins when their lips met told her that this was right, so right, that her soul should find a match in his, for he loved her and healed her as no other had and, be the world as unfriendly as it may, she and Zuko would find a way for fire and water to live in harmony whether they had fate’s help or not.


	6. Soothe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: hinges on a discussion of Kya's death.

_soothe. (v) to mitigate, assuage, or allay, as pain, sorrow, or doubt._

*

For the third time in his life, Zuko stood at the edge of the Southern Water Tribe village.   The first time, he’d come searching for the Avatar and his honor; the second time, he’d come to spend a week with his girlfriend and her family; this time, he’d come to take his fiancée to the Fire Nation where they would wed and start a new life together. 

The icy wind blew around him and made him secretly glad that they were leaving tomorrow because even with wearing extra clothing and regulating his body temperature with his bending, he found himself cursing the South Pole’s cold climate.  Still, he wasn’t quite sure why _this_ time, when the trip was so ostensibly joyous, he had a knot of worry in the pit of his stomach.  He should have been more worried the first time he was here, when he had come to disrupt and to rout, but his obsession with his quest had made him feel invincible.  His father might have been able to cow him, but Water Tribe peasants certainly could not. 

Maybe it was because he was starting to admit to himself that he really had no idea what he was doing, running headlong into marriage at eighteen.  It wasn’t an unusual age to wed, especially among the nobility where arranged marriages were common—and he thanked the spirits every day that he had managed to avoid one of those—but he had realized recently, during the long months apart from Katara when he had plenty of time to think, that he didn’t know what a good marriage looked like, how to make its inner workings run smoothly.  His parents’ marriage had been happy once, but by the time he was old enough to be aware of their interactions, things were infinitely strained between them.  He respected Iroh and Hakoda immensely, but both of those men had lost their wives long ago.  Sometimes he felt like he and Katara were going into this new arrangement completely blind. 

Not that he would let that stop him.  He had never been one to back down in the face of a challenge or an obstacle; he never would have come to this place in life if he was. 

Pulling his parka closer around him, he sighed into the wind and trudged through the snow toward Hakoda’s igloo.  He had just returned from an ice fishing trip with the men of the village, but Hakoda had sent him back while the rest of the men dealt with the catch so that he could help Katara gather up anything she wanted to take to the Fire Nation with her.  Night was falling and the morning of their departure was imminent. 

When Zuko walked into the igloo, he saw that Katara had already gathered her belongings neatly near the door and was sitting on the floor near the fire.  She didn’t have much to bring, really—she had some clothes and a few mementos that held childhood memories, but a life of war and travel meant she had little in the way of physical possessions.  Zuko still wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that.  He, too, had spent many years with nothing but the clothes on his back, but now that times were calmer, he sometimes wanted to make up for lost time and shower Katara with the best gifts his strictly budgeted treasury could afford.  Somehow, though, he didn’t think that was what she wanted or needed.  Except for her mother’s necklace (and, he hoped, the hair combs he had given her when he’d asked her to marry him), Katara didn’t really care about possessions; she cared about people, which was why Zuko expected that they—or at least she, depending on the political climate at the time—would be making regular trips to the South Pole after they wed. 

“Katara?” 

She hadn’t looked up when he walked in, nor did she respond to her name.  Instead, she stared intently at the fire, her arms wrapped around her knees and her chin resting on them, her hair loose and flowing and nearly hiding her from him. 

When he took a few steps closer, he saw that she was crying. 

“Katara, what is it?” he asked, kneeling down beside her and reaching for her. 

She didn’t answer, just shook her head and flinched away from his touch, tears shimmering in the reflected firelight. 

Frowning, Zuko settled himself a few feet away from Katara and waited.  These were real tears, he could tell, not the tears she regularly shed over a lost otter penguin chick or food that was too spicy.  Those tears, the insignificant ones, he didn’t mind so much—she was a passionate person and that was one of the reasons he loved her.  Those tears, he could understand and smile at even as he held her close to calm her. 

These tears, though, made something in his gut twist uncomfortably because these were ones he’d seen before, too, during the war.  These were like the tears she had cried of heartbreak and loneliness and loss and revenge.  When Katara cried tears like these, Zuko wanted to wrap her in his arms, keep her close forever, and destroy anyone or anything that so much as tried to hurt her.  Katara’s aching tears were the ones that hurt him the most and they were the ones he had the least power to control or end, because they usually involved something outside of his realm of authority. 

After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence had passed and Katara hadn’t altered her position of staring into the fire and crying, Zuko cleared his throat and tried again.  “What is it, Katara?  Is it because we’re leaving tomorrow?  I know…I know the Fire Nation is far away from your home, but you’ll get used to it there, I promise.  And, I mean, I’ve heard that it’s pretty normal to get cold feet before a wedding.  So it doesn’t bother me if you’re…having second thoughts.”  He scuffed the toe of his boot along the floor.  His last statement wasn’t strictly true, but if it helped Katara feel better, he didn’t mind.  In the silence and the firelight, he suddenly felt like he was back on Ember Island with Azula and her friends, sitting around a fire with uncertainty in the air. 

Katara looked at him then, shot him an angry glare before returning her gaze to the fire and muttering into her arms, “It’s not _that_ , you idiot.  I want _you_ , Zuko, and you’re crazy if you think I don’t.  It’s not even your stupid country with its stupid heat.” 

“It’s not stupid,” Zuko muttered back under his breath.  He waited for further explanation to come; none did.

 Katara stared sullenly into the flames, pointedly ignoring him. 

Finally Zuko sighed and scooted closer to her.  She still flinched when he put his hand on her shoulder, but she didn’t ask him to move away. 

He ran his thumb gently along the curve of her shoulder and decided to push the issue a little further.  “So if it’s not _me_ or my ‘stupid country’ that you’re so upset about, then what is it?” 

Katara’s sigh was an exhale that pushed from the soles of her feet through her body before it slipped out of her mouth.  “It’s just…everything,” she said despondently.  “I want to marry you, Zuko.  I really do.  I can’t imagine myself with anyone else and I don’t _want_ to.  I love you so much.  It’s just…I don’t feel like I belong here in the Southern Water Tribe any more.  I haven’t really felt like I belonged here since Sokka and I left with Aang.  I’ve seen the world and the world has changed; I’ve changed, too.  I’m not the fourteen-year-old kid I was when I left.  I love teaching waterbending here, but something about being here feels…stuck.   Like it’s not quite where I’m meant to be.” 

She looked up at Zuko, who met her gaze evenly, and frowned before turning back to stare at the fire and continuing, “But at the same time, it feels wrong to leave, too.  My dad and Sokka—and Suki now, too—are here and they’re the only family I have.  I feel like, if I leave them…if I leave the South Pole permanently…”  Her eyes welled up with tears again and she blinked rapidly, trying to stem the tide. 

She took a deep, shaky breath before saying, “I feel like if I leave my family and my home behind, then I’m abandoning everything my mom sacrificed herself for.  Like I’m betraying her.” 

Zuko was glad that, when he pulled Katara into his arms this time with a decisiveness that brooked no argument, she didn’t fight him.  She just hiccupped as the new round of tears started and she buried her head against Zuko’s shoulder.  If Zuko had thought his heart was breaking before, he was sure of it now.  He didn’t know why he’d thought they were past all this, but he realized now that, even though he had helped her on the journey nearly two years ago to avenge her mother’s murder, the decision she had made to spare Yon Rha’s life hadn’t spared her the weight of responsibility she felt for being the one her mother had died to save. 

Zuko placed a firm, gentle kiss on Katara’s temple and wrapped his arms around her a little more tightly.  “Your mother loved you, Katara,” he said, and he felt her relax a bit against him as the familiar rasp of his voice filled her ears.  “She didn’t save you so that you could live the same life you lived as an eight-year-old.  She saved you to give you the freedom to grow into the strong woman you have become.” 

Katara’s next words were muffled against his shirt, but he still understood them.  “I won’t be able to focus on waterbending in the Fire Nation, though!  It’s like letting my gift go to waste.  And _that_ is exactly like betraying her.” 

Zuko sighed, running his fingers through Katara’s hair, trailing them down her back and hoping the contact would soothe her as much as he was trying to with his words.  “Katara, trust me, I know all about family obligations,” he assured her.  “I spent three years chasing someone most people believed was dead.  And then I did a lot of things I’m not proud of now in order to please my father—only to learn, in the end, that he wasn’t worthy of my efforts.” 

Katara jolted upright out of his embrace and stared at him, appalled.  “My mother was nothing like your father!” she exclaimed indignantly. 

Zuko’s eyes widened as he realized the implications of what he’d just said and he shook his head and gritted his teeth, angry with himself for not thinking his words through and slightly angry at Katara for taking the unintentional bait.  “No!  No, that’s not what I meant!” he protested.   “Argh, I just—I meant that I’ve tried to please my family and now I know that, ultimately, what it all comes down to is listening to your conscience to judge whether or not what you’re doing is right.” 

Katara’s look toward him had softened now and he reached out to pull her back into his arms, reminding himself that this was about her right now, not about his slighted feelings.  She settled against him and he continued, “Your mother loved you and she would have wanted you to be happy.” 

Katara sniffed and, looking down, Zuko noticed that expression was still tearful.  “But am I just being selfish?” she asked.  “Am I doing this for love when I should be focused on duty?” 

“What would you say your duty is here?” Zuko asked. 

Katara was quiet for a moment and Zuko listened to the crackle of the logs on the fire.  When she spoke again, her voice was hesitant.  “…Teaching waterbending, I guess?”  She sighed and shifted in his arms.  “It’s not that I feel like teaching waterbending is what I was meant to do forever…it’s just that moving in with you means that I will blatantly be _not_ waterbending or doing anything to perpetuate my heritage.” 

Zuko smiled into her hair as he stroked her arm and attempted to speak lightly.  “Well, before too long, you’ll be having babies.  Some of them will likely be waterbenders and you can train them.” 

Katara snorted and slapped his shoulder lightly.  “Nice try, but even Sokka could come up with something more comforting than that.” 

“Are you hoping all of our children are firebenders, then?” Zuko countered. 

“No.”  Katara scowled up at him.  “Spirits, you’re terrible at jokes.” 

He only kept his gaze on her, half-smiling, until she sighed and acquiesced, “But if they’re all as wonderful as you, I might be consoled.” 

She leaned up to kiss him and when she settled back into his arms, she said, “Is that all I’m supposed to do, though?  Be a mother?” 

“Is that so ignoble a duty?” Zuko asked. 

Katara thought about that, then said, “I guess not.  I always thought I’d do…more than that, though.” 

Zuko kissed her head.  “Well, you’re marrying the ruler of your former enemy nation in a time of uncertain peace.  Even by having children, you’re spreading a message of the possibility of healing—we represent two former enemy nations united in peace and in marriage.”  He laughed softly.  “And if that doesn’t satisfy you, I’m sure you’ll find some squabbles to involve yourself in or some people who need to have their mindsets changed.” 

Katara frowned.  “I suppose so.” 

After a long moment of silence, Zuko asked the question that had hummed in the back of his mind during this whole discussion, the one he didn’t want to ask but needed to if he wanted to take her away with him tomorrow with any sense of peace in his soul.  Quietly, he asked, “Katara, are you seriously considering changing your mind about marrying me?” 

Katara sat up to look at him, eyes wide.  “No!  Zuko, no!  Of course not!”  She leaned in to kiss him with conviction.  “I love you.  I want to marry you.” 

Zuko smiled ruefully at her.  “Then marry me and we’ll figure out the rest of the details when we have to.”  He took her hands in his and looked her in the eye.  “Katara, your mother would be proud of you.  You’re a wonderful woman—you’re strong and good-hearted and selfless.  That doesn’t change whether you live in the South Pole or in the Fire Nation.” 

Katara blinked back tears and hugged him.  “Thank you.”  When she had regained her composure, she pulled back and said, “You’re right.  I know you’re right.  I’m just a little…scared, I guess…of starting a new life, as much as I’m looking forward to it.” 

Zuko cocked his head at her and smirked.  In a way, he’d been right all along.  “So you _do_ have cold feet.” 

Katara laughed.  “Yeah, I guess so.”  She looked up at him hopefully.  “Do you think we could just elope?” 

Zuko shook his head.  “No.  Marrying the Fire Lord brings with it certain obligations, such as a big, public wedding ceremony and a day full of celebrations that will be entirely too long because all I’ll want to do is get you alone.” 

Katara blushed and smiled at him.   Yes, he thought, the weeks leading up to their wedding would stretch far too long. 

“Well,” she said, “if I have to go through that whole ordeal, does marrying the Fire Lord at least mean that I can kiss him any time I want?” 

Zuko smiled.  “Barring during council meetings or other times when you would be doing it just to prove a point, the answer is yes.  Definitely.” 

Katara smirked wickedly at him.  “You mean I can’t kiss you when those nobles’ daughters everyone wanted you to marry are parading around court looking at me like I’m as much of a novelty as Kuei’s bear Bosco?” 

Zuko swallowed hard.  He could already tell he was going to lose a lot of arguments to Katara, but somehow he didn’t mind.  “I guess you could kiss me then,” he consented. 

Meeting his eye, Katara grinned.  “Then I’m all in.” 

When Katara met Zuko at the ship the next morning, he was pleased to see that she had the combs he’d given her months ago tucked into her hair.  She cried while saying goodbye to her father, brother, and sister-in-law, but that didn’t surprise him.  She would see them in a few weeks for the wedding, but Zuko knew that didn’t stop the sense of finality that accompanied what they were doing.  When the ship had cast off, though, and he joined her on the deck to watch her homeland fade into the distance, she entwined her fingers with his and leaned her head on his shoulder.

“I love you, Zuko,” she murmured.

He kissed the top of her head and said, “I love you, too, Katara.”

They might not have any idea what they were getting into, he thought, but that wouldn’t stop them from fighting with all they had to make it work.  He didn’t have any intentions of giving up this woman for the world.


	7. Spark

_spark. (n) 1. a glowing bit of matter, especially one thrown off by a fire; 2. anything that activates or stimulates; inspiration or catalyst._

*

“It will be all right, Zuko.”

That seemed to be Katara’s constant refrain these days.  Zuko knew she was probably tired of his fretting—no, he knew without a doubt that she was, because on one of the days when the pregnancy hormones had gotten the better of her, she’d hurled the leftover water from the children’s bath in a small water whip that had stung before soaking his tunic and had told him to _stop worrying because there’s nothing we can do about it anyway and you’re driving us all crazy with your nonsense_.

He hoped that wasn’t strictly true; he hoped the children hadn’t detected that he was worried, especially because it concerned them.  He was pretty sure they didn’t know, though—Kenzo was three and didn’t know the right questions to ask; Kya was two and didn’t know what bending was beyond the fact that daddy could make fire in his hands to calm her fears on dark nights and mama could make pretty shapes with the water in her bath.

Katara knew, though, and, excepting the bathwater incident, she did her best to be understanding.  She would never completely understand his fears when it came to the children, how he would sometimes wonder if they had done the right thing by having children at all, no matter how much he loved them, because he was still haunted by the ghosts of his past that whispered that his choice to fight on the side of right was not final, that he could yet become his father—but it was the times when he was weakest that she wrapped him in her arms, held him close, and whispered fiercely that he was a good man and that she would not let him change for the worse, ever.

Her words reassured him, because even if he couldn’t always trust himself, he could trust Katara.

Each new pregnancy assuaged his fears slightly—when Katara had told him this third time that she was expecting, the joy came much more quickly than before on the heels of his initial panic.  But their children were still young and he heard the question whispered everywhere in court, not just in his own mind:  what would they bend?  He had known going into marriage with Katara that their children would likely be a mix of firebenders and waterbenders.  He also knew that it was a big risk to take because having a waterbender as the heir to the Fire Nation throne would threaten the barely stable peace of his country.  Even Katara, for all her national pride, was prudent enough to recognize that there was a danger of revolt if their firstborn, Kenzo, turned out to be a waterbender.

As much as Zuko recognized the weighty responsibility of raising a bender of any kind and of teaching his children to use their power responsibly, he hoped that at least one of their children—preferably Kenzo, since he was first in line for the throne—bent fire.  That was part of the reason he had suggested this summer trip to Ember Island.  Kenzo was three now and should start exhibiting signs of bending soon.  Zuko thought that perhaps a few weeks spent outdoors in sunshine and heat would encourage those first sparks of fire, if they were indeed to come.

They had been here on Ember Island for two weeks now with no results other than that Kenzo and Kya thoroughly enjoyed building sandcastles and splashing in the waves while Katara and Zuko faced the reality that, even though they’d convinced themselves this vacation was going to be relaxing, they were more exhausted than ever after spending days spent chasing two toddlers around the beach.

Sometimes late at night and early in the morning, while the children still slept, Zuko would wander the halls of the house the way he did every time they visited here.  The years after the war had brought much healing—especially with Katara’s help, for he had found that she had the ability to heal so much more in him than just his physical wounds—but trips to Ember Island, as much as he enjoyed them, always brought back unwelcome memories along with the good ones.

Whenever Katara awoke to find that he had left their bed, she would come and join him quietly, walking beside him and taking his hand in hers.  He had told her once that the past seemed easier to bear when she was nearby.  She had told him that that was because she and the children represented his future.

At this very moment, one part of his future was about to smash the other’s sandcastle, though, so he rose from where he had been lying next to Katara, who had fallen asleep on a blanket, to intervene.

“Kenzo,” he said, gathering the three-year-old up in his arms and spinning him around.  “Please don’t step on your sister’s sandcastle.  Would you like it if she broke your things?”

Kenzo frowned and protested, “She did.  Kya did break my sandcastle yesterday.  She stepped on it and it went away in the waves.”

Zuko sighed and kissed his son’s forehead.  “And mama and daddy talked to Kya about treating other people’s things respectfully, just like I’m talking to you now.  You’re the big brother, so you need to show her how to be good.”

Kenzo nodded.  “I do that,” he said solemnly.

Zuko smiled.  “That’s my boy,” he said, putting his son back down.  “Now why don’t you build a sandcastle next to your sister’s?”

“Okay,” Kenzo agreed.

Kya stood up and toddled through the sand to grab her father’s leg.  “Hug daddy!” she said.

He reached down and scooped his daughter up in his arms, too.  She flung her arms around his neck and said, “Cuddle daddy.”  The sentiment only lasted for a few seconds, because sandcastles were much more interesting than her father in her two-year-old mind, and when he set her down again, she joined her brother in the sand building castles that looked more like lumps than fortresses.  They were happy, though, and proud of themselves.  

Zuko took advantage of the temporary calm to rejoin Katara on the blanket, draping an arm over her sleeping form and propping up his head on his other arm so that he could keep an eye on the children.

This was what he remembered, he thought, from his earliest days at Ember Island.  He remembered family trips to the beach back when his family was whole, before the war and his father’s grasping for power had torn them apart.  So much had changed since then, so much of the world had been destroyed and reshaped.  For a moment, he squinted up at the bright sun that shone overhead.  This was a new start, he realized.  The cycle had come around again and now it was up to him and to his family not to repeat their parents’ mistakes.

Zuko’s musings were interrupted by a screech from Kenzo.  “DADDY!  Kya burneded my CASTLE!”

The cry woke Katara and both parents scrambled to get to their children quickly.  With the advantage of having been awake already, Zuko got there first and pulled both children into his arms as he and Katara looked between the steaming pile of wet sand and each other in shock.  Katara’s eyes were wide as she knelt down next to Kya and took her from Zuko.

“Kya,” she said seriously, looking her daughter in the eye.  “Did you burn Kenzo’s castle?”

Kya smiled sweetly.  “Fire!” she proclaimed.  “I make fire like daddy!”

At that, Kenzo twisted in Zuko’s arms and frowned.  “I can make some fire like you, Daddy, too,” he said, holding out his hand and mimicking a firebending move.  To Zuko’s astonishment, a small flame appeared over his son’s hand.  “But Kya burneded my castle,” he continued, pouting.

Zuko helped Kenzo make the motion that would direct the flame in his hand toward the waves, where it fizzled in a burst of steam.  Not sure how much he could trust his voice, Zuko managed to say, “Let’s go home.” 

He picked up Kenzo, Katara picked up Kya, and the four of them gathered their things to head inside for the rest of the day.  They could lecture about not burning your sibling’s sandcastles later.

As they walked toward the house, Zuko and Katara exchanged glances over the children’s heads.  Zuko could feel his stomach roiling with mixed relief and anxiety.  Firebenders:  their first two children were firebenders.  That was good news for political stability, but he was reminded once again of the need to teach their—young, so very young—children about the great responsibility that came with bending any element.  And Kya was young, too young—she shouldn’t be bending yet.  Bending at this age meant that she was a… _prodigy_.  The word thudded in his heart, rattled through his frame.  _Like Azula_.

He looked up at Katara as she shifted Kya in her arms, around her pregnant belly that was obvious but not yet uncomfortable, and when she met his gaze, he knew she was thinking the same thing.  Nonetheless, she smiled, a smile that calmed him despite the nervousness he saw in her eyes.  He could almost hear her voice:  _It will be all right, Zuko._

Later that night, after they had talked to the children before bedtime about what it meant to be a bender, after they had sent a messenger hawk to the capital so that a firebending tutor would be waiting for them when they returned, after they had gotten over the initial shock and talked things over between the two of them, had begun to wrap their minds around the concept of raising firebenders, and then had wrapped their limbs around each other in the ancient union of lovers, Katara rolled onto her back, laced her fingers over her growing belly, and looked over at Zuko as she said softly, “This one’s a girl and she’s going to be a waterbender.”

Zuko didn’t know how much of his wife’s statement was certainty and how much was conjecture, especially given that she’d been as shocked as he had been when their first two children had begun firebending on the same day, but he leaned over and kissed her anyway.

It wasn’t until three years later, on another summer trip to Ember Island, that third-born Ursa proved her mother right when she drew up an awkward wave and destroyed yet another of Kenzo’s sandcastles.


End file.
